Marmosnails and MiB
by Selanp
Summary: One-shot. Zim is visited one day by three men dressed in black... they're not human, and they mean buisness.


Marmo-snails and MiB   
Written by Selan Pike   
An Invader Zim fanfiction  
  
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Heh heh... been a while since I've worked on a piece of fanfiction, huh? It's kinda nice, writing Zim. He's just so delightfully stupid, I don't have to worry about making him too coherent. Yes... it's very nice to write this stuff. For those of you who have read my original story "Paranormality": This takes place before that story. For those of you that haven't read that: Don't worry, it doesn't have anything to do with this story. For those of you not familiar with the MiB of UFO lore: This has nothing to do with the Will Smith movie. And for those of you who ARE familiar with the MiB: I'm not trying to be accurate. Shut up.  
  
And lastly... Do not even think about reading my old fics. I keep them for archival purposes only. They are not meant to be read by sane, intelligent individuals. I do, however, encourage you all to visit my site (www.planetxeeni.com) and look at all the nice stuff there. Thank you, and now... on with the fic.

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Earth.  
        A stinky, smelly planet. A smelly planet, orbiting a gassy sun, within a flatulent galaxy. But said galaxy is also home to certain less smelly planets, planets where intestinal gas is but a bad dream, something the species' ruling those planets have long since evolved out of their systems.  
        One such planet is Irk, home of the Irken race and center of the mighty Irken empire, a series of planets ruled by the all powerful, all knowing Almighty Tallest.  
        Of course, just because the Irkens lack the ability to shoot methane out of themselves does not make them perfect. No, their mighty mastery of snackfoods does. But STILL! Every once in a while, out of the collective bowels of the Irken race comes some shred of excrement. Some individual that represents every flaw left in the species.  
        This individual is known as ZIM.  
        Well, they couldn't very well let the metaphorically smelly, stinky Zim stay on Irk, only to destroy and maim everything that superior race held dear! So the Tallests, in their desperation to be rid of the foul flaw of Irken genetic engineering, sent Zim to a planet whose smellyness matched that of Zim's—Earth.  
        Zim, unknowing of this plot to be rid of his bad self, gleefully agreed to this expedition, and with his glitched robotic servant, GIR, he made his way across the galaxy and to the planet; hoping someday to take over and rule the smelly ball of filth with a clean, sweet-smelling iron fist.  
        He's been there for quite some while, plotting his evil plots and scheming his devious schemes.  
        Today, on the agenda of the green "conqueror," was experimentation on fusing Earthen snails and marmots to create an amazing, super marmosnail capable of destroying the human race! BWA HA HA HA HA—cough, cough... ahem. Yes. But today's plot would not go uninterrupted, no. For today... the doorbell rang! Oh, how it rang. It rang until the computer was forced to inform its Irken overlord of said ringing.  
        "Someone is at the door!" The computer informed, displaying a screen with a diagram of the door, hoping his irritating master would not need to ask any further questions.  
  
        "Heh?" Zim looked up from the slimy corpse of a marmot (with a snail taped to its head—the first prototype of the mighty marmosnail! BWA HA HA HA—) and examined the diagram of the door for a moment or two before responding. "Have the robo-parents get the door! That is what I, the AMAZING ZIM, created them for, after all!"  
  
        The computer groaned. "You destroyed the robo-parents an hour ago, o AMAZING ZIM."  
  
        Zim paused a beat, then looked over to his side, where the pile of robotic scrap formerly known as his robo-parents lay, an Irken axe sticking out of the heap. "Eh... oh. That's right! I destroyed them, because I am AMAZING, and that is what amazing people like me DO! YES. Because I'm amazing," Zim dramatically reached into his pak, and pulled forth a set of contact lenses and a pompadour wig. He held them to the heavens, as if silently blessing the sacred items of his disguise, then donned them. "And so! Because I am so AMAZING, I MYSELF shall answer the door!"  
  
        Zim then, closing his eyes confidently, marched to the nearest elevator and entered (bumping into the doorframe while he was at it, his eye-closing confidence blinding him until he finally decided his confidence would also allow him to open his eyes and watch where he was going). He rode the elevator to the ground level of the house, and leapt out of the toilet with such ferocity as to scare a million babies into soiling themselves. Making sure his disguise was on straight and that GIR was already in his own green doggy costume, he marched to the front door and threw it open.  
        Standing on the other end of the doorway was three men, all clad in black long sleeve turtleneck shirts, black pants, and thin, opaque, rectangular glasses. The one standing in the front of the other two was bald, wearing a black hat atop his bare head. The other two both had hair, one of them with shoulder-length whitish-blonde hair, the other with black hair cut short. Two of them had dark, olive skin—the blonde, instead, was pale white.  
        Zim frowned. "I do not want to buy any filthy GIRL-SCOUT COOKIES! Now begone!"  
  
        The three visitors ignored this outburst, and proceeded to enter the house, stepping over the tiny Irken. Zim turned around to face these intruders, leaving the door wide open. He was infuriated by now, as he would now have to disinfect the house again, thanks to these pitiful humans tracking their human germ filth into his perfectly clean base. "I said I don't want any cookies! Now you will LEAVE the house of ZIM, before I am forced to use my MIGHTY IRKEN POWERS to liquidize your organs!!" He paused, realizing what he had said, then corrected himself, "That is, I WOULD, if I were Irken! Yes. But I am a pitiful human piggy like yourselves, so... so... uh... GETOUTOFMYBASENOW!!"  
  
        The black-haired intruder spoke, his voice monotone and eerie. "It makes irritating noises."  
  
        The blonde nodded. "Indeed."  
  
        The hat-wearing humanoid produced a badge, and held it out for the green Irken "human piggy" to examine. "Irken Zim," He said, his voice monotone like the others', "I am Agent Jones of the Men in Black. These behind me are Agent Smith and Agent Brown."  
  
        Zim inspected the badge critically, and gasped. "This is written in the alphabet of the Men in Black! You're agents of the MiB, aren't you!"  
  
        "Yes, Irken, we are," Agent Jones responded, putting his badge back into his spooky pant pocket.  
  
        The Irken, his ears (or ear-like sensory organs) too superior to hear such drivel, seemed not to hear the MiB's response. "AREN'T YOU!!"  
  
        The three paused for a beat, staring at the moronic alien before them. Finally, Jones replied. Again. "Yes... yes, we are."  
  
        "I KNEW it!" Zim, knowing he was in the presence of extraterrestrials like himself (and forgetting the open door behind him), removed his disguise and grinned. "You can't HOPE to hide anything from ZIM, for I am too much of a GENIUS to fall for such trickery!" Zim's antennae perked up cheerily, "So, whaddya' guys want? Making sure I am sticking to galactic regulation in my AMAZING conquest of Earth, I assume?"  
  
        "Not quite," Said Jones. "This planet is home to undeveloped intelligent life forms, Irken. It is off limits to invasion."  
  
        "Do not be ridiculous!" Zim cried, quickly fed up with his spooky visitors, "My Tallest would never send me to a prohibited planet. There must have been some sort of error."  
  
        "The MiB do not MAKE errors," Jones insisted, "Now, we must request that you stand down and live here peacefully, or leave this planetary system permanently."  
  
        Zim growled, letting loose his mighty spider legs in an effort to seem big, important, and menacing. "Never! This is ZIM's planet! ZIM refuses to leave before this ball of filth has been rendered DEAD and ready for Irken colonization! Now begone with you, you pathetic human sympathizers!"  
  
        The three agents were not intimidated by Zim's futile attempt to scare them out of doing their duty as agents of the MiB. "Understood. Any further attempts to destroy the human race and the MiB will be forced to intervene. The minimum punishment for your crimes is severe neuralization."  
  
        Zim waved his hand dismissively. These three agents could do nothing to stop his mighty evil! "Feh! I fear not your big words, inferior MiB- creatures! Now LEAVE! I must get back to my AMAZING marmosnails!"  
  
        The MiB paused, the three raising eyebrows in unison. "Marmosnails?" Asked Jones.  
  
        Zim crossed his arms confidently, knowing that the very thought of a marmot-snail hybrid was enough to scare even the bravest life form into insane convusions. "Yes. Marmot-snails."  
  
        The three looked at each other for a moment, then looked back at Zim. Jones spoke again. "And you are going to conquer the humans with this?"  
  
        "Of course," Zim retracted his spider legs, confident now that his guests would soon wet themselves in horror and leave. "Terrifying, no?"  
  
        "Er... Yes. Indeed," Jones stuttered. "May I ask what your previous attempt for world domination was?"  
  
        "A mighty chicken cannon!" Zim proclaimed cheerily, "And before, it was a mutated hamster... and before that, laser weasels, and before that—"  
  
        The three looked to themselves.  
        "Perhaps he is no threat after all," Said the blonde Agent Smith  
  
        "He is too stupid to destroy the humans," Replied the black-haired Agent Brown.  
  
        "He is not worth the intervention of the MiB," Jones concluded.  
  
        The three looked back at the insane Irken invader. He was still prattling on about his previous achievements.  
        "... And this one time," He blathered, not having noticed the three's conversation, "I threw a paper ball at the ENORMOUS head of that HORRIBLE Earth-monkey DIB, and—Hey! Why haven't you run off screaming yet?!"  
  
        "We see now that there is no need for the MiB to interfere with your attempts to conquer this planet," Said Jones.  
  
        "Aha! Because you are terrified of my EVIL, yes?"  
  
        Jones looked back to his two companions for a moment, then back at Zim. "... Yes. Yes. In fact, we are so terrified, that we must show you something very... eh... cool. Yes. Something very cool," He reached into his pocket, and pulled out something that looked similar to a human laser pointer.  
  
        Zim perked up. "Heh? I'd bet it's some sort of MIGHTY OFFERING to appease the GREAT ZIM! Yes?"  
  
        "Something like that," Jones pushed a button on the laser pointer, and from it came a bright flash of light. Zim's eyes glazed over, and he stood there dumbly. "We were never here. You have never encountered the Men in Black. Good Day."  
  
        And so, the three turned and left Zim's domicile, flashing their light at a certain human child with black, scythe-like hair who had been watching the whole scene as they left.  
        A minute or so later, Zim's eyes lost their glazed appearance, and he shook his head. "How did I get up here...?" He mumbled, then noticed the open door. He looked to his robot slave, who had been sitting on the couch watching television the whole time. "GIR! You left the door open again!"  
  
        GIR shook his head. "IT WASN'T ME! It was the mighty TAQUITO FARMER!" GIR then proceeded to giggle, and run out the door.  
  
        Zim sighed, shaking his head, and closed the door behind GIR. He then turned and returned to his lab to continue his evil experimentation.  
  
The End. 


End file.
